


Happy Endings

by BlasphemousProphet



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gallavich, M/M, ian tries to sort shit out, mickey likes the avengers, sort of a season 5 fixit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 18:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3738871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlasphemousProphet/pseuds/BlasphemousProphet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place two years after Ian dumps Mickey. One of Ian's old friends rolls into town and forces Ian to question how he's treated Mickey. In case the title didn't tip you off, all is well that ends well. Everything ends up okay. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Endings

“Look, a friend of mine wanted to come over. See the place,” said Ian, tossing his empty pill bottle in the trash with a gesture so loose that Mickey knew it meant a lot. Gotta pick up his meds later, Mickey thought.  
“A friend?” said Mickey.  
“Fine, one of my old Fairytale people. He’s a decent guy.”  
“Hell no,” said Mickey. “I don’t want to stand around watching some geriatric loser flirt with my boyfriend.”  
“He’s not like that, Mick. He worked with me. He doesn’t like redheads anyway.”  
“Fine,” groaned Mickey. “But one longing stare from him and I’m out. Going to see that new Avengers thing.”  
“Got a thing for Captain America?” Ian teased.   
“More like Natasha Romanov,” said Mickey.   
Ian blinked and in that blink Mickey could read years of fear and watching Mickey fuck Angie Zago and stare at him from the depths of a closet so deep it ate him up inside.   
“What?” said Ian.   
“I just meant cause she looks like you. Geez. You know, red hair, pale skin, like a fucking alien?” Mickey swiped his hands through his hair looking sheepish.   
Ian leaned down and kissed Mickey’s forehead. The doorbell rang. “Jesus,” complained Mickey. “Jesus fuckin Christ!”  
“I’ll get it,” said Ian.   
Jeff was actually pretty fucking cool and he didn’t seem interested in Ian at all. There was one bro handshake and that was all. Satisfied Mickey melted into the couch, throwing his legs over Ian’s lap.   
“So you must be the famous Mickey,” said Jeff. “Even more impressive in person.”  
Mickey narrowed his eyes. “Is that a fucking height joke?”  
Jeff laughed. “Wow,” he said to Ian. “He’s adorable.”  
Mickey swung up off the couch. “I’m starving,” he announced, disappearing into the kitchen. Ian watched Jeff’s eyes trail after Mickey as he walked out. Ian sat up straighter.   
“So you got a nice place here,” said Jeff.  
“Thanks,” said Ian. “We moved in like…”  
“Three months ago,” yelled Mickey from the kitchen.   
There was a thump on the wall. “Keep it down!” hollered some old quivery voice.   
“Stop watching game shows full blast all night and I’ll keep it down!” Mickey yelled right back. Jeff burst out laughing.   
Dinner was nice. Jeff brought wine, Mickey mocked the label but proceeded to get good and drunk, Ian sulked most of the time as he watched the way Jeff stared at Mickey when Mickey wasn’t paying attention, Mickey complained about business school and Jeff helped him with some math thing while Ian did the dishes in such a rage that he barely felt Mickey caressing his shoulders.   
“Well, it’s late,” said Jeff. “I guess I better be going.”  
“Yeah,” sniped Ian and Mickey didn’t disagree.   
“I’ll be around,” said Jeff. “Call me if you need any more business tips.”  
“Man, I don’t need any tips,” said Mickey, laughing.   
“Sure, Mr I forgot what the fuck an axis is,” said Jeff.   
“Hey, this was your wine,” said Mickey. “Your fancy fucking ass wine.”   
Jeff laughed. “Hey, I don’t if you appreciate what you got here, Ian.”  
“Excuse me?” said Ian dangerously.  
Ian could tell Mickey was pretty drunk because Mickey wrapped his hands around Ian’s waist as if he was holding the red haired man together. Mickey was never this affectionate with him around other people. Ian melted.   
“Nice to see you, Jeff,” said Ian.   
“Same. And nice meeting you, man.”  
“Same,” said Mickey, nuzzling his head into Ian’s arm as Ian closed the door.   
It took ten seconds for Mickey to pounce onto Ian. “I thought he would never leave,” breathed Mickey as he kissed his way down Ian’s chest.  
Ian pulled Mickey up by his chin. “You’re drunk,” he reminded Mickey.  
“And you’re hot as fuck,” said Mickey, grabbing Ian’s hand. “I think we can solve both these…problems…”  
Mickey’s voice was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head.   
That was one of the best things about Mickey, Ian thought. He was smart and all but he really didn’t notice other guys at all. He stared at Ian and he never seemed to get tired of the sight. He stared at Ian while the world stared at him and his perfect ass and he never seemed to notice. It always shocked Ian how little attention Mickey to paid to anyone who was hitting on him. Women, sure. But when men stopped to admire Mickey’s arms and then stayed to watch him enthusiastically gesticulate Mickey was always completely oblivious.   
“You really didn’t think that guy was hot?” Ian would grumble as they walked out of the club.   
Mickey would wrinkle his nose. “Who, Brody?”  
“Yeah,” said Ian.   
“No.” Mickey paused. “Did you?”  
“Well, objectively…yeah,” said Ian. “You really didn’t notice him hitting on you?”  
“There’s only one guy I notice,” said Mickey, pulling Ian closer to him and stuffing his hands in Ian’s coat pockets. The funny thing was that Mickey really didn’t seem to notice anyone else.  
“Where’re you going?” mumbled Mickey from the bed.   
“Boxers for you. Toothbrush for us,” said Ian quickly. “just stay there.”  
Mickey didn’t listen. He never did. He walked into the bathroom behind Ian and let Ian brush his teeth like he was a child. Ian handed Mickey his boxers and Mickey’s cock surged up to meet him instead.   
“I just like you,” said Mickey, red faced. Ian spit out his toothpaste and pushed Mickey to the floor.   
“I love you,” Ian whispered. Mickey groaned.   
Later that night as Mickey attached himself to Ian, Ian stroked Mickey’s hair and whispered, “what did you think of Jeff?” but Mickey was already passed out. 

When Ian came home the next day he found Jeff sitting on the couch with Mickey.  
“Yo, it’s the Avengers,” said Mickey. “Sittdown.”  
“I got a screener from one of my people,” said Jeff.  
“Ooh,” mocked Mickey, poking him in the side. “Ian hates this shit. I gotta go to theaters alone like an asshole to watch my shit.”  
“Really?” said Jeff. “Gimme a call. I love this stuff. I got a thing for Iron Man.”  
“Iron Man?”  
Jeff shrugged. “I like a brunette,” he said, staring at Mickey.   
Ian glared at Jeff.   
“I gotta take this,” said Mickey. “’S Mandy. Have no idea what she’s up to.”  
Ian stared at Jeff. “What the fuck, man?”  
“What?”  
“You, coming on to my boyfriend like I don’t exist.”  
“Okay, first of all, I’m not, and second of all, if I fucking was, it’s not of your business. Not like you’re the world’s greatest boyfriend anyway. You cheated on him.”  
Ian clenched his fists. “That was a long time ago. I was off my meds.”  
“I just think Mickey deserves better,” said Jeff.   
Ian sat down. “I do my best,” he growled.   
“Look, I’m sorry, man. I know I’m out of line here and I’ll go but I’m just saying I don’t think it’s you, might not be me, but Mickey deserves better.”  
“You’ve known him for a day!”  
Jeff shrugged and Ian punched him in the face.   
“Can you chill the fuck out?” yelled Jeff. “It’s not like he would ever leave you! He fucking adores you!”  
“Mandy’s coming home- Whoa, what the fuck happened here?” interrupted Mickey, shoving his phone into his pants.   
“I was just leaving,” said Jeff, shoving Ian off him. “Good luck with everything, Mick.”  
“Don’t call him Mick!” roared Ian, reaching for Jeff again.   
Mickey slammed the down behind Jeff. “What the hell?”  
“He was hitting on you!”  
Mickey blinked. “So what? I’m with you, aren’t I?”  
“Look, Mickey, I need to talk to you.”  
Ian could already see the fear on Mickey’s face, quickly covered by an unreadable facial expression. Mickey sat down. “Talk,” he said.   
“We never talk about what happened two years ago,” said Ian.   
“We don’t need to talk about it,” said Mickey quickly.   
Ian used to be a safe place for Mickey when he was younger. They would kiss tenderly, fuck roughly, and Mickey would push Ian away again and again and Ian would wait for him again and again. Now Ian was still a familiar place, a sexy, funny, smart, brave familiar place, but no longer a particularly comforting one.   
Ian had broken his trust, had cheated on him, had called him a faggot for caring (a word Ian knew stung to Mickey like fuckin knives), had kidnapped his son and had done everything possible to show Mickey that he didn’t need his help, didn’t want him, and definitely wanted something more exciting than their relationship. Well, fine. Fuck him. Mickey had been alone before (and it had been a fucking nightmare) and he would just have to learn how to be alone again (fuck!).   
There had never been any official breakup. The relationship had just kind of fallen apart, disintegrated in Mickey’s hands until there was nothing left to hold onto. Was he remembering wrong? Had he ever really made Ian happy? Had the whole thing been bullshit from the start? Impossible.   
Mickey missed the way Ian kissed him in the mornings, the way Ian ruffled his hair, the way Ian would tickle him, send him random texts, make him dinner…  
“I need to tell you I’m sorry,” said Ian. Mickey shifted uncomfortably.   
“You were sick,” he said.   
“I treated you like shit,” said Ian. Mickey wasn’t looking at him. “Look, Jeff was right. I’m not the greatest boyfriend. You stay with me because you’re used to me.”  
“No, I stay with you because I love you.”  
“You remember the first time you ever told me that?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I said what does that even mean. Then I broke up with you.”  
“I fucking remember,” Mickey snapped.   
“And you still say those words to me. Mickey, look at me. You’re the bravest fucking guy I know.”  
Mickey refused to look at Ian, getting up and pacing the room instead. Ian let him. It was one of the things Mickey did to calm down.  
“I know what I love you means,” said Ian. “It means I can be better. I will be better.”   
“You are better,” muttered Mickey.  
“No I’m not. Mickey, you’re…” Ian got choked up. “You suck at recognizing these…things. I’m as bad as your dad. All I wanted was for you to be my boyfriend and then you were and I called you a fag and beat the shit out of you just like your dad…you don’t see these things because you’re expecting them…this shit doesn’t surprise you..”  
Mickey wanted to make some stupid joke but he had nothing. He fisted his hands in his pockets instead. “The fuck you want me to say?” he snapped.   
“I just want you to know I’m sorry,” said Ian. “I fucked up. I pushed you…Mick, I know you don’t believe me but seriously, I fucking promise, I would never do that again to you. Never ever, not any of it.”  
Mickey didn’t turn from the window.   
“I just want you to know that I’m trying here,” said Ian. “To treat you like you deserve. I’m going to be better. I’m getting better already. I love you, Mickey. I need you.”  
At the last sentence Mickey turned around.   
“Please stay,” said Ian.  
“Okay,” said Mickey simply, and then they were crying next to each other and to anyone else it might have looked like an ending but there was no ending for them, only infinite beginnings and endless simple happy hours hanging ahead of them like gifts.


End file.
